The Colors of Christmas
by UrbanMuse
Summary: A blizzard slams New York City on Christmas Eve and Jo is stranded, unable to join her family in Virginia for the holiday. A gesture of friendship on Mac's part gradually evolves into something more.
1. Chapter 1 - White

**Disclaimer: CSI NY and the characters don't belong to me - just the ideas in my story. No copyright infringement intended; no profit being made.**

**A/N: This story is for Quille. Happy Name Day. Sorry – my fluffy little holiday one shot took on a life of its own until I was pretty much obligated to turn it into a few chapters. Either that or risk everyone falling asleep and knocking themselves out on their keyboards as they attempted to read the whole thing in one shot. So two more chapters to go – posted over the next couple days until Christmas.**

**FYI: There are some minor references to a couple story arcs in Season 9, most notably from Ep 9.03 - "2,918 Miles" - but I don't think it's anything that wouldn't have been evident from the promo material.**

The Colors of Christmas

Chapter 1: "White"_ – a color used by most churches as the color of Christmas, representing innocence, purity, joy and peace, as well as Christmas snow and snow flakes._

Mac Taylor stood in the break room at the Lab, gazing out at the dense whiteness that he was pretty certain had been New York City a mere three hours ago. If he squinted, he could just barely make out the lights of the building across the street despite the thick sheets of snow and sleet that had been pummeling the city for the past few hours. He couldn't help but marvel at the thought that virtually every single one of those flakes blanketing the city would have a completely different hexagonal crystalline structure if he were to examine them one by one under a microscope. He wondered vaguely if EDNA had some sort of sample reference for snow crystals based on the atmospheric conditions in which they were formed.

He shook his head, slightly embarrassed at having gotten so caught up in such a silly reverie. Perhaps he'd been in the Lab too long. He glanced down at his watch. It was nearly 9:30 p.m. Christmas Eve. He took a sip from the cup of coffee he'd just brewed and sighed long and hard. A rare show of emotion for him at work, but he was fairly certain that everyone else in the Lab had gone home hours ago, once the first reports of the true severity of the storm heading their way had hit the news. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he'd most likely be spending the night in his office tonight – no use in braving the weather now just to be called back in as soon as the next crime occurred. Assuming any miscreants were even stupid enough to be out in this chaos. With one last glance out the window and a sip of his steaming coffee, he turned to head back to his office, taking the long way just for a change of pace.

He had just passed Jo Danville's office when he stopped suddenly and frowned. Her office had been swathed in darkness, as were most tonight; not even the usual reassuring glow from the computer monitors. Nonetheless, he was certain he'd seen her figure seated at her desk. He shook his head; his eyes must be playing tricks on him. He'd barely slept last night and had every intention of taking a nap later on the couch in his office. He turned around, taking a few steps back to glance into her office. She was indeed seated at her desk, in complete blackness, the chair at an angle so that she was facing the window. She was so still, he wondered absently if she hadn't fallen asleep in her chair.

He lingered in the doorway a moment, just staring at her. The dim hallway lighting reflecting off the pale skin of her right cheek. He couldn't see the rest of her face. Couldn't even tell if her eyes were open. Yet somehow she seemed so . . . peaceful? Serene? He was almost tempted to turn back and continue on his way, leaving her undisturbed. Or perhaps he should leave her a note telling her to come by his office when she awoke.

But he didn't. He glanced again at his watch, wondering if he'd misread it earlier. He was sure she'd said her flight to Virginia left at 7:50. Yet here she was. And it was indeed well after 9:30 p.m. Fearing she really had fallen asleep and missed her flight, he entered quietly, not wanting to startle her.

"Jo?" He said, his voice barely above a whisper, a tentative hand reaching out to touch her right shoulder ever so lightly.

But before he even made contact with her body, his fingertips managed to catch in her hair and she jumped, swatting blindly back towards him. He abruptly drew back his hand, nearly as startled as she was. It was clear she'd been awake after all because now he saw she'd been holding a steaming cup of tea in her hand. Half of which had just sloshed out of the mug and onto her jeans.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, turning her head and looking at him wide-eyed "Mac! Good Lord." She leaned over and after pushing a pile of file folders and two other, empty, tea mugs out of the way, she set the dripping mug onto her desk. "You scared me half to death." Her hand pressed against her chest, trying to quell the frantic beating of her heart. She glanced down at her pants, sighing. "Oh, I'm a mess." She began brushing haphazardly at the sodden leg of her jeans, before turning her chair around to face him. "I thought you'd gone home already."

"I could say the same about you." He smiled slightly. "I actually thought you were asleep in your chair."

She scoffed. "Nah. I don't share that talent with you. Fortunately . . . or unfortunately, as the case may be." He frowned but she continued before he could think of a proper retort. "Actually I was just looking at all that snow. Wondering how it's possible that every little flake could be made up of such innately beautiful, yet completely unique, formations. It's like a tiny little miracle, Mac." She smiled up at him, her face the picture of childlike wonder.

He simply stared at her a moment before a slight smile began to break out across his own face. He found it rather wondrous in itself that she could so easily turn something he'd been thinking about so analytically earlier into something so purely innocent, so . . . magical. He flashed her a genuine, heartfelt smile and found himself nodding his head in agreement. "It is amazing isn't it?"

He suddenly remembered his reason for interrupting her dreamlike state in the first place. "Hey what happened to you? I thought you'd be up in the air by now?" He noticed she was still mechanically rubbing the wet spot on her leg and he leaned over her to grab a tissue from the box on her desk to help wipe up the spill. As he hovered over her, she caught a whiff of his cologne, mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and an undertone of just . . . him. She tried to quash a smile as she realized how she'd come to love this particular potpourri that she automatically associated with him. He smelled exactly the same everyday – uniquely him, like each little snowflake - and she found it incredibly comforting.

But looking more closely at him, she noted how he'd apparently discarded his suit coat since she'd last seen him, well over three hours ago. How the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up past his elbows despite the definite chill in the Lab. How the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his shirt tails threatening to escape any moment from the waistband of his dress pants. The steaming cup of coffee in his left hand. He must have just brewed it; when she'd made her tea a short while ago, the coffee pot had been empty and the kitchen clean.

She shook her head slightly. She knew that overly casual look by now. He was either heavily engrossed in a particularly perplexing case, or he was spending the night here. They had only one outstanding case; awaiting transfer of evidence from a similar case in Georgia. She smirked, albeit rather morosely. He was going to spend Christmas Eve at the Lab.

Mac felt the weight of her gaze on him and let out a silent sigh. Damn her. She was always staring at him in that 'way', figuring out what he was up to; occasionally even when he wasn't too certain himself. He handed her the tissue so that she could dab at the wet spot from her spilled tea, avoiding her look as he did so. She hadn't answered his question so he continued, staring blankly at the chaotic piles on her desk. "So was your flight delayed?"

His inquiry was met with silence for a moment, and he hazarded a glance towards her face. A mask of sadness clouded her expression. She frowned and shook her head. "Cancelled. Airport's closed for the next 24 hours at least."

"Oh." He nodded, glancing again out the window. "Of course it is." He thought a moment. "You can't get another flight out tomorrow?"

She shrugged as she tossed the tissue into the waste bin, her brow wrinkling. "I was only going down there for a couple days. Flying back the day after Christmas." She shook her head then glanced up at him. "The airline's a madhouse Mac. It took me nearly forty-five minutes just to get through to customer service on the phone. I can't imagine what it's like out at JFK right now. A whole day's worth of stranded passengers trying to get on the first flights that 'might' open up tomorrow. Flights that have probably been booked for weeks already. Months even. I'd be on standby with half of New York City. On Christmas Day no less." She paused, the crease in her brow deepening. "It didn't seem worth it. Even if I was lucky enough to somehow get a flight out tomorrow night, I'd just end up turning right back around and heading back home the next morning. We'll just celebrate later." Her voice sounded rather nonchalant, but he could detect a slight waver in her tone. She was crushed; she just didn't want him to see.

He shook his head slightly, a deep frown evident on his mouth that carried over into his eyes. "Oh Jo. I'm sorry." He moved slightly closer, looking around for a chair to pull up. Seeing none, he eyed her desk to determine if he could possibly find enough space to sit down on its edge. Deciding that that would be expecting too much (he hadn't seen the surface of her desk since she'd joined the team), he decided to remain standing next to her chair. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and paused a moment, not certain what more to say. It had been so long since he'd spent the holiday with someone he truly cared for, he'd almost forgotten the joy that came of that seemingly simple tradition. He drew his hand back slowly, and looked around, catching sight of the photo of Ellie as a little girl in the far corner of her desk. "Tyler and Ellie are already there with your mother, right? They made it down safely?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes glistening as she followed Mac's gaze to Ellie's photo. Her voice was noticeably shaky when she finally spoke. "They've been down there a week already – left together the day after school break started." She smiled softly up at him. "They wanted to catch up with some old friends, spend some time with Grandma. My mama always made the best ginger cookies. Every shape you could imagine . . . every color of frosting, every candy decoration in existence. . . " She trailed off as a single tear slid down her cheek. He eyed the box of tissues on the far side of her desk, decided it would be too awkward to lean over her yet again to reach for one. Instead, he leaned towards her and reached out his hand to wipe away the teardrop with his finger.

She closed her eyes, embarrassed at her sudden inability to control her emotions. She took a deep breath and sighed long and hard, opening her eyes again and looking at him. "You know. I've never been away from my kids on Christmas. Even after Russ and I divorced. After I adopted Ellie. We always agreed Tyler and Ellie should be together on Christmas morning. He'd take Tyler the day before; bring him back in time for dinner on Christmas Eve." Another tear slid down her cheek and she cast her gaze down, causing a small rivulet to stream down her other cheek.

"Jo, come here." He said softly, opening his arms. She hesitated briefly before standing up and leaning into him. His arms reached gently around her and he pulled her closer, methodically stroking her back with one hand. A moment later her arms snaked up around his waste and she buried her face in his neck. He could feel the dampness soak through the shoulder of his shirt. But he didn't care. She was warm and soft and smelled . . . fruity? Probably just the tea, he thought. But still. He decided he liked it. All of it. He realized he should pull back as he began feeling something stronger than just compassion. But he didn't. And suddenly he began to think that perhaps he didn't really want to spend the whole evening alone in the Lab.

Finally, she sniffed loudly and lifted her head from his shoulder, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry Mac."

"Don't apologize for loving your family Jo. Family is to cherish. It's the most important thing you can have."

She stifled a giggle. "No. I meant sorry for getting your shirt all wet."

"Oh. Of course." He pulled back slightly and glanced down at his shoulder, then down at her tea-soaked pants leg. "We kind of match." He quipped.

"Well, it's not like I have anyplace to be." She said forlornly and moved a few feet back from him, instantly feeling the loss of warmth from having been so close to him.

Mac nodded but said nothing. He felt suddenly … guilty. She hadn't asked for any days off around Christmas. In fact, since his shooting, he couldn't recall her ever asking for specific days off, holidays or not. He'd intentionally given her Christmas off this year, just as he always tried to do with everyone that had children. But he hadn't thought twice about scheduling her on Christmas Eve. And she'd said nothing about it, only mentioning to him earlier that week, after the schedule came out, that she'd decided to fly out tonight to be with her kids and mother during the couple days she wasn't on shift. They stood together in silence for a moment, both staring out at the weather.

She glanced over at him suddenly, narrowing her eyes. "Hey, what are you still doing here anyway? You're shift was over hours ago." She hesitated only a second before continuing with a question she had a sneaking suspicion she already knew the answer to. "Don't you have big plans with Christine for the holiday? She probably cooks up a mean Christmas dinner!"

Mac, in turn, hadn't expected that topic to come up so suddenly, although, he realized, he should have known. This was Jo. He eyed her a moment. "No." He stopped, then added a breath later: "Nothing special planned." He knew he'd hesitated just enough before answering so that, if she wasn't already, she would certainly be suspicious now. He eyed her uncomfortably for a split second before turning to gaze back out the window, trying to think of some way to change the subject. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out he'd been contemplating spending the night at the Lab, catching up on some paperwork and avoiding the cold, emptiness of his apartment.

Mac cleared his throat. "You going to head home soon yourself then?" He glanced around her office. "Doesn't look like you're accomplishing much sitting here in the dark."

A weak smile tugged at her lips. She decided to let him off the hook as far as Christine was concerned. At least for now. "Nope, I don't suppose I am getting much done." She laughed softly. "I was just trying to figure out how best to get home."

He looked curiously at her.

She rolled her eyes. "I took a cab this morning, assuming I'd be doing the same to get to the airport tonight. Didn't want to leave my car in the Lab garage while I was gone and didn't particularly want to drive myself to the airport on Christmas Eve to find no parking available at the last minute. Now I'm kind of wishing I'd driven in. It'll be impossible to get a cab in this. And I'm not certain I really feel like braving the subway now." She nodded her head towards the snow outside and sighed, her earlier enjoyment from the friendly banter between her and Mac falling to the wayside as her current situation reared back into the forefront of her thoughts.

Mac thought a moment, staring at her. Without even thinking, he opened his mouth. "Why don't I drive you home?"

"And I should trust you to get me home in this?" Her voice was serious as she waved randomly at the window, and her eyebrows quirked, awaiting his response. But the slight sparkle in her eye indicated that she was simply toying with him.

He knew she was kidding but decided to play along anyway. He shot her an exaggerated frown, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a look of wounded pride taking up residence in response to her 'challenge'. "Oh come on Jo. This is nothing. I grew up in Chicago. I've lived here for nearly twenty years. You think I can't maneuver the Avalanche through a couple of snowbanks?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Men. What is it with your masculine bravado when it comes to things like asking for directions, grilling steak, driving through inclement weather."

Mac scrunched up his face. "Oh please. Despite your tasteless insistence on stereotyping me tonight, I'm still more than happy to drive you home Jo. Regardless of what natural disasters may befall us. That is, if you can stand being in the same car with all my 'masculinity'."

A huge grin exploded onto Jo's face and she raised her hand, trying to stifle the choked laugh that threatened to sneak through her lips. Mac felt his face redden and he quickly turned his gaze from her as he realized that had not come out at all the way he'd intended.

He frowned at her but she merely smiled back at him, a subdued chuckle prefacing her words. "Well, I do appreciate the offer. And the prospect of spending the evening with . . . your masculinity . . . is quite tempting, I must say." She paused to waggle her eyebrows at him, causing the tips of his ears to turn a bright crimson shade. "But . . . seriously, Mac. I don't want to put you out. My place isn't anywhere near yours. You'll be out driving around the city all night in this storm."

Recovering quickly, he smiled. "Come on Jo. You got stuck with the Christmas Eve shift and missed out on spending the holiday with your mom and kids. The least I can do is drive you home. Better than waiting hours for an empty cab. Or worse, staying at the Lab all night."

She eyed him askance. His smile faded instantly as he saw that look on her face. "Oh please Mac. You and I both know you were planning on spending the night here yourself until you came across me sitting all forlorn in my office."

He frowned at her. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to." She shot back. "It was obvious." She smiled internally as he shifted his stance, suddenly uncomfortable. "I tell you what. I'll let you drive me home only because it'll get you out of your damned office for the night. No coming back here, you got it?"

"Jo, I'm on call. I may not have a choice."

"Fine, but you wait until the choice is made for you. In fact, you can stay at my place if you want. That way you don't have to come all the way back across the city to your place in this." She paused, eying him. "Your masculinity's always welcome in my apartment."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was never going to live that one down. "That's really not necessary Jo. But I will drive you home. As long as you stop discussing my 'masculinity'." He glanced over at her desk. "So, you ready? Or were you actually working on one of these files?"

She moved to stand in front of her desk, glaring at him the entire time, as she reached out and deftly grabbed three different file folders from three separate piles. "I just need to bring these with me." She smiled at his expression of disbelief. "You thought I didn't know where anything was, right? See. I do actually have a system going here."

Mac shook his head. "I don't even want to know what it is."

She smirked as she jammed the folders into her bag, nearly knocking over one of the three nearly empty mugs of tea on the edge of her desk. Mac stared at them. He raised his brow. "Thirsty tonight?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Not particularly. I was just cold."

He smiled. "I expect they've turned down the heat for the evening, given no one's actually on shift."

She glanced at him.

"Who is on call anyway? You and who else?"

"Actually, Sheldon and Adam are on tonight. I'm secondary. Primary tomorrow."

She nodded. "Fun holiday for you. But maybe we should add me, since I'm stuck here anyway. I'll need something to keep me busy."

Mac shrugged. "We'll see. If we get in a bind, I know where to find you."

She laughed. He nodded his head towards the door. "Off we go?"

She downed the last of her third cup of tea, grimacing at its coldness, and walked over to grab her coat from the rack. She nearly jumped when Mac appeared behind her to help with an unruly sleeve. She glanced back at him. He merely smiled. "Thanks." She murmured.

"Let me just get rid of these." She said, as she walked back to her desk and gathered up the two other tea cups from her desk.

Mac nodded. "I've got to get my coat. I'll meet you in front of the elevators."

She smiled and headed down the hall, in the opposite direction. Once in the break room she placed her tea cups in the sink. She chuckled as she eyed the sprig of mistletoe Danny had mischievously hung directly over the coffee maker. With a sly smile she plucked it from the piece of tape securing it to the cupboard and stashed it into the pocket of her sweater. It couldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight.

Walking back down the hallway, she noticed Mac already waiting in front of the elevators. Staring at her as she walked down the hall.

She frowned as she approached. She slowed, looking down at herself. "Something the matter?"

He averted his gaze, realizing he'd been staring right at her. "No. I'm . . . just sorry you got stuck here."

She shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take advantage of some quiet time in my apartment. Not too often that that happens."

He laughed. "I suppose not. I am sorry though."

The elevators pinged open and she smiled over at him as he held the door for her. "Thanks Mac. For tonight."

He nodded as he pressed the button for the garage, then he turned and, reaching out hesitantly, squeezed her arm softly. "Well, it's the least I can do. For you. I may not be able to get you home to your family in Virginia, but I can certainly get you to your home here."

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Nearly an hour later, they were seated in the Avalanche exactly two and a half blocks from the Lab.

Mac turned to Jo and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Jo. I don't think I can get you home tonight."

Jo turned slowly to look at him. She merely nodded and turned back to staring out the window. She'd pretty much figured that out shortly after they'd left the Lab.

Traffic had been snarled since they pulled out of the garage. Even a snail's pace would have rivaled the progress they seemed not to be making. Then, a half an hour ago, a semi had jackknifed a few feet in front of them, nearly taking out the Avalanche as it did so. Mac had gotten out to make sure everyone was ok, but other than frayed nerves, nothing had changed other than the fact they would likely remain stationary for even longer now.

As they sat and waited, Mac glanced over at Jo. She was lost in thought, the fingers of her gloved right hand drumming out some unknown rhythm on her jeans as she sat huddled in her seat, still staring out the window. Presumably thinking about her family, together, without her.

He tried to think of something to take her mind off the disappointing turn her holiday plans had taken.

He started with the first thing that popped into his mind. Something he'd been mulling over for a while now. "So how is Agent Conover these days, anyway?"

Jo abruptly stopped thrumming her fingers and turned slowly towards him. A blank look fell into place as she faced him, but he hadn't missed that look of surprise when her head first wrenched itself away from the window. She eyed him curiously, not certain in exactly what direction he was heading with that particular comment.

Seeing her obvious surprise, he cleared his throat. "Was that supposed to be a secret?"

She pursed her lips. "Was 'what' supposed to be a secret?" She tried to sound innocent, but failed and her question took on a more defensive tone.

He chuckled. "Come on Jo, I spent six hours on the plane to San Francisco and most of the day there with the two of you. I'm not that obtuse."

Jo was silent a moment, desperately trying to remember what she or Cade might have said or done on that trip to make it so obvious to Mac that they were more than just old work acquaintances from the Bureau. She fiddled nervously with her gloves, removing them and turning them over in her hands.

A subtle smile began to creep across Mac's face. She frowned. "What are you playing at, Mac Taylor?"

He chuckled and looked away, staring out at the semi in front of them. "Actually, Christine and I saw the two of you coming out of Alfonso's Trattoria and getting into a cab. The night we caught the Ethan Grohl case. That eventually led us to Mary out in California."

Jo thought back to that night. A smile toying at the corners of her mouth as she recalled her evening out with Cade. Suddenly, her eyes widened, her smile disappeared and she felt her cheeks heat up as she continued thinking about exactly what had transpired as she and Cade had left the restaurant that evening. There had been no question about where they were heading or what they were planning on doing once they arrived, given their behavior on the sidewalk while awaiting a cab. It had been only mildly more restrained than what had transpired in her bedroom a short while later.

"Ooohhh." Jo replied rather slowly, the full implication of Mac and Christine having witnessed that hitting her rather hard. "Well . . . "

Mac smiled slightly, trying to recall the last time he'd seen Jo embarrassed about anything and having a hard time pinpointing it.

Jo sighed, feeling her cheeks flush bright red as her hand rose up to cover her mouth. "Lord, what did Christine think about all that?"

Mac shot her a look, a twinkle in his eye. "You don't wanna know what I thought?"

Jo merely huffed in response.

He chuckled. "Christine was happy that you seemed . . . happy." He chuckled, and continued, albeit much more softly. "Although I'm not sure 'happy' would even do justice to what you were clearly experiencing there."

Jo's mouth shot open and hung that way for a few moments before she regained the presence of mind to force it shut. Her face paled considerably and she merely glared back at him, before turning back to stare out the window. "That was . . . what it was. He lives too far away to make anything else practical."

Annoyed with Mac's earlier amusement at her expense, she couldn't hold her tongue before her next question popped out. "So, how is Christine, anyway? She must be busy at the restaurant if you were planning on spending the evening at the Lab."

Damn. He'd walked right into that one. He sighed. "All right. We're even." He paused a moment and she turned to look at him. "I don't know Jo. She and I aren't . . . together anymore."

She nodded and gave him an apologetic smile. She wasn't surprised in the least. The team had had a holiday dinner at Christine's restaurant at the beginning of the month. And while Christine and Mac had played the diligent hosts, there had definitely been an undercurrent of tension that didn't escape Jo. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mac."

He clenched his lips slightly. "I take it you're not surprised."

It was clearly a statement and she hesitated before responding anyway.

"Mac. Look, I'm sorry. I held my tongue this time. I didn't say anything to you. Or anyone else. I was trying to respect your privacy. Stay out of your personal business." Mac winced slightly upon hearing those words, but let her continue. "But I can't help it if I'm good at reading people. My perceptiveness is what makes me good at what I do. I can't just turn it off or ignore what I see."

He gazed at her a moment before a slight smile finally turned his lips upwards. "I know Jo." She scoffed. That was not the response she'd been expecting. He grinned and reached out, placing his hand over hers in her lap, squeezing it lightly. She wondered how he felt so warm despite the freezing temperatures outdoors. "It's just rather unnerving sometimes."

The semi blocking the street finally managed to straighten out just enough to pull up a half a block or so, where it fell back into line with the rest of the traffic inching through the blinding snow.

Mac removed his hand from Jo's and accelerated ever so slowly. He glanced over at her. "Why don't I take you to my place? It's a lot closer. I think if I could just pull up about another 10 feet I can head down the alley there and if I take the side streets from then on, we should be able to make it to my building without too much difficulty."

"Your place?" Jo looked at him skeptically.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure what other option we have."

She frowned. "Mac, I could just get on the subway and head home that way."

It was Mac's turn to frown. "Jo, it'll be havoc down there now. You sure? I heard some of the lines are already shut down because of the storm."

Before Jo could answer they both started as a huge boom echoed around them and every light on every block as far as they could see was suddenly extinguished.

Jo groaned. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Now there's a power outage?"

Mac let out a long sigh. "I suppose it's to be expected."

She glanced over at him, her shoulders drooping. "I guess you're right." She frowned. "Ok. Your place it is." And she sighed heavily. "Not like I have much choice." She grumbled as an afterthought.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well gee thanks. I'm glad you're looking forward to my hospitality." He quipped, his tone one of mock affront.

Jo shook her head. "Just keep your eyes on the road, Taylor. I'm counting on that masculine bravado to get us there in one piece."

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**Chapter 2: "Red" Should be up tomorrow. Rating will probably change depending on how lazy I am about editing ;)**


	2. Chapter 2 - Red

**End of Previous Chapter:**

She glanced over at him, her shoulders drooping. "I guess you're right." She frowned. "Ok. Your place it is." And she sighed heavily. "Not like I have much choice." She grumbled as an afterthought.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well gee thanks. I'm glad you're looking forward to my hospitality." He quipped, his tone one of mock affront.

Jo shook her head. "Just keep your eyes on the road, Taylor. I'm counting on that masculine bravado to get us there in one piece."

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Chapter 2: "Red"_ – a color of energy and love, inducing feelings of warmth and excitement, reminiscent of roaring fires, red berries and Santa Clause. _

Well over another hour later Mac was just trudging up the stairs to his apartment, leaving a trail of melted snow in his wake. He and Jo had finally managed to arrive at his building earlier, only to find that the garage wouldn't open – the power outage rendering the electrical system inoperable and the manual override apparently broken. They had begun the search for street parking - Mac joking it would most likely be snow bank parking - but Jo had barely registered his humor. The stress of the winter storm and the sudden wrench it had thrown into her holiday plans, all mixed with the late hour, seemed to be weighing quite heavily on her mood and she'd remained unusually quiet for much of the trip after agreeing she'd be better off spending the night in his spare room. Realizing it could be several blocks before he ever found an empty space big enough for the Avalanche, Mac had finally decided to drop Jo and her small suitcase off at the building entrance. He'd handed over an extra set of door keys and a spare flashlight from the glove compartment to help her navigate the four flights up to his place.

She'd protested of course. Insisting that she'd wait and accompany him once he had parked. But dropping her off seemed the chivalrous thing to do given the below freezing temperatures and driving sleet outside. That, and the fact that he'd gotten tired of listening to her complain for the last half an hour about how badly she'd needed to use the bathroom. After she'd mentioned it for the fourth time, he'd suggested that perhaps she shouldn't have finished that third cup of tea at the Lab before they'd left. But she hadn't seemed to find that funny in the least, and had merely cast him a withering look. In the end, he'd decided it would probably be best to just keep quiet.

Now upstairs, alone, in Mac's apartment, Jo had been nosing around the living room following her hurried trip to the bathroom. A trip which had earned her a nasty bruise on her right thigh when she cut a corner too closely in the darkened apartment and slammed into a low bookcase. It still throbbed and she found herself favoring her leg as she walked slowly across the mezzanine of Mac's apartment, looking curiously at each shelf and table surface with the help of the thin beam of light from the tiny flash light Mac had given her.

She'd only been here a few times since beginning work at the Lab. Once early on to drop off a file; the other times when she'd visited him during his recovery in those long months after the shooting. She'd always been fascinated by his array of gadgets, mechanical contraptions, antique books and memorabilia. She figured if she spent a whole day just examining his apartment, even just this one room, she'd glean more about Mac Taylor, the man, than their three years working together in the Lab had ever offered. But at the moment, she wasn't interested in that. She was looking for any sign that he'd even acknowledged that it would be Christmas tomorrow.

She suddenly heard the sound of a key turning in the door lock and she froze. She wasn't really doing anything wrong, but felt guilty nonetheless. She tried to decide if she should just confess to wandering around examining the nooks and crannies of his apartment, or make an effort to descend closer to the entry hall. One step in the direction of the short staircase down from the mezzanine and the decision was made for her. Her leg ached. She'd never make it to the door before Mac entered, so she simply stood still in the middle of the room, waiting for him.

She could hear him stomping his feet in the entryway, taking off his shoes and coat, then silence. "Jo?" He finally called out hesitantly.

"I'm up here Mac." She called to him and a moment later she could see the beam of his own flashlight snaking through the hall doorway, into his office area and finally up to where she was standing.

"What are you doing up there? Planning on scaring me when I walked in?"

She chuckled. "No. I was . . . "

"Snooping?" He supplied for her matter of factly. She couldn't really see his expression in the dim light of the flashlights and his tone was unreadable. She hoped he was merely kidding with her, and not truly angry.

She shook her head. "No, not really. I was trying to convince myself that somewhere you do actually have at least one Christmas decoration."

Mac sighed. Perhaps he should have just driven her home. "Jo, it's my apartment. If I don't want to decorate, there's no law that says I have to."

"I know. But just a card maybe?" Her voice was timid, yet hopeful.

He frowned. "I get Christmas cards. I have a few here on the credenza." He moved towards it, shining the flashlight over the surface, rummaging through a pile of unopened mail and pulling out a few select envelopes. He brandished them. "See? Christmas cards."

She scoffed and began moving slowly down the stairs towards him. "Mac, I'm pretty sure it doesn't count if you haven't even opened them yet."

He shrugged. "I've been busy."

Approaching him, she glanced at the envelopes he'd dropped back on the table. "Anyway, everyone gets cards from their building super and the newspaper delivery person. They're just looking for tips for the holidays." She flashed him a knowing look.

He narrowed his eyes at her and decided to change the subject. "I'm going to go change clothes. I'm nearly frozen from the snow." She nodded but said nothing so he continued. "Why don't you go check out the kitchen. See if there's anything we can eat. I probably have cereal, or maybe something to make a couple sandwiches out of."

He caught her disheartened look and paused before he continued on towards the bedroom hallway. "I did try to pick up some carry-out on the way back, but with the power outage, everything's closed."

She nodded at him. "It's ok Mac. It wouldn't be the first time I ate a sandwich for dinner." And she moved slowly past him towards the entry hall and the kitchen.

He stared at her as she walked by. "Are you limping?"

She paused and turned towards him, glancing first down at her leg, then back up at him. "Oh. I slammed into a bookcase in your hallway."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "You ok?"

She nodded. "I'll live. It's just sore. I'm sure I'll have a record-breaking bruise. But I'm fine." And she turned back towards the kitchen to look into the dinner choices.

He smirked slightly and called out after her. "That's what you get when you snoop around someone else's apartment in the dark."

"For the record, I wasn't snooping then, I was trying to find the bathroom. Behave Mac, or you can be sure I will come snooping around when you least expect it."

He frowned but she'd already disappeared down the hallway. He continued down the opposite hall unbuttoning his damp shirt as he went, trying to remember if there was a lock on his bedroom door.

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In the kitchen, Jo had managed to locate some bread and was busy spreading strawberry jam onto each slice. Knowing Mac and how seldom he actually seemed to spend any amount of time in his apartment, she'd decided to steer clear of the sliced lunchmeat and milk in the refrigerator, given she couldn't find an expiration date on the first, and the latter was well past the date-stamp on the carton. The loaf of bread seemed surprisingly fresh, as did the jam, so she busied herself searching through the cupboards for some peanut butter to go with them.

Finally finding some in the last cupboard, she pulled it out and set it on the counter. But as she went to close the cupboard door, she caught sight of a familiar red box in the depths of the pantry. She pulled it out and stared at it a moment. _Ellie's favorite_. She thought to herself. She pried off the top and inhaled the familiar aroma, suddenly finding her mind overrun by the memories of past Christmas Eves spent at her mom's, sipping mugs of steaming hot chocolate with big, fluffy marshmallows, sitting in front of the fireplace, singing carols, laughing. She felt her emotions spinning out of control again, and she closed her eyes a moment, trying to regain her composure before Mac came in and saw her, in the midst of an emotional breakdown again.

Padding silently in stocking feet, Mac entered the kitchen undetected, only to find Jo seemingly frozen in front of one of the cupboards, her eyes shut, an old, open box of hot chocolate powder in her hand. He was about to warn her not to use it – he couldn't even hazard a guess as to how long it had been in the cupboard. But before he could open his mouth, with no warning whatsoever, Mac sneezed violently. Startled beyond belief, Jo's eyes shot open, she spun around and the box of hot cocoa flew from her hand, coating the kitchen floor, the counter, the sandwiches and lastly, Mac, in a fine dusting of powdery chocolate.

As if in response, Mac sneezed again, sending a small spray of chocolate powder in Jo's direction. And with that, they stood, stock still and speechless, staring at each other for what felt like several minutes. Neither certain of what exactly to do or say.

Jo seemed to recover first. Her hand rose to her chest, aghast at the havoc she'd managed to wreak in Mac's pristine kitchen. "Oh my Lord Mac. I am so sorry. Look at you. Look at the kitchen." She sighed loudly. "Look at our dinner." She stood in place, shaking her head, at a loss as to what the first step in dealing with this disaster should be.

Mac, in turn, could no longer repress the deep laugh that had been building in the depths of his chest since the cloud of chocolate had first descended over his kitchen. It came rumbling from his mouth a mere moment later, causing even more chocolate powder to cascade off his body and join what was already pooling around his feet.

Jo, somewhat taken aback by his unexpected reaction, soon joined in and within seconds, they were both laughing hysterically, sending further chocolaty dust clouds swirling around them.

Mac finally swiped a hand down his face, clearing some of the powder from himself as he shook his head in Jo's direction. "I'm pretty sure there hasn't been this level of excitement in my apartment for quite some time. And you've only been here for less than an hour."

She cast a flirtatious smile his way. "Well, who knows what might transpire before the morning breaks. Or the power comes back on."

Mac simply shook his head, plucking at his sweater and sending another billow of chocolate floating across the kitchen. He shook his head, astounded at the state of his kitchen.

Jo eyed him, clearing her throat rather uncomfortably. "Vacuum?"

Mac looked at her quizzically. "There's no power."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh good heavens. Silly me." She thought a moment. "Dustpan?"

Mac shook his head. "Mmmm, I'm thinking more along the lines of a HEPA microbiological particle decontaminator."

Jo glowered at him. "You know you're doing a damn good job of making me feel even worse than I do already for destroying your kitchen."

Mac laughed. "It's not destroyed. Just a bit dirty. How about we just leave it for a while. Maybe Santa will come during the night and clean it up for us. You should really eat something anyway."

"And you shouldn't?"

He wrinkled his nose. "I'm not certain I'm a fan of chocolate and jam sandwiches."

She grinned. "Add some peanut butter - it'll taste fantastic."

Mac grimaced. "Why do I fear you might just actually be speaking from experience?"

She merely winked at him as she slathered a knifeful of peanut butter on her bread, blew some of the excess chocolate off her sandwich and took a large bite, nodding appreciatively.

He arched his eyebrows and, after trying to shake off most of the cocoa powder from his clothing, he reached out for his own sandwich. He grabbed the knife, spreading some peanut butter on one slice of bread, putting it together and taking a small, hesitant bite. She looked at him expectantly, awaiting some reaction. He seemed to be savoring the flavors when all of a sudden, his eyes opened widely, he uttered a strangled cough and one hand rose to clutch at his throat.

"Mac?" She moved towards him, wondering if she should start the Heimlich maneuver when he spontaneously burst into peals of laughter.

She glared at him, her hands crossed defiantly in front of her chest, a scowl painted across her features. "Not funny. I really thought you'd choked."

His shoulders shook with the effort of containing his laughter and he flashed a silly smile in her direction. "Hey, I thought you were so perceptive - yet you were fooled by that?" Jo rolled her eyes and took another bite of her sandwich. He continued. "But honestly, I have to admit, the sandwich isn't half bad."

Jo tried to frown but she couldn't conceal her smile for long. Mac motioned to the small kitchen table in the corner and pulled out a chair for her, indicating with a nod of his head that she should sit down. She complied and he sat down at a right angle to her, munching on another bite of his sandwich.

They ate in silence for a moment, until Mac leaned back in his seat and looked at Jo.

"So tell me, anyway. What was up with that box of hot chocolate before you decided to decorate my kitchen with it. I would have sworn you were . . . worshiping it when I walked in."

Jo looked at him askance a moment. "Hey, it was your sneeze that caused me to drop the box. That wasn't my fault." But then her face turned serious and she frowned slightly. "It's actually Ellie's favorite. We have a tradition. Every Christmas Eve. Since I was a little girl. We'd sit around the fireplace sipping hot chocolate. Roasting marshmallows. Singing Christmas songs. Talking about the year. Seeing the box there in your cupboard; it just made me . . . a bit homesick."

Mac nodded, almost regretting that he'd mentioned it. He hadn't meant to bring up sentimental memories for her. "Well, at least Tyler and Ellie are with your mom. I know that doesn't replace being with them for the holidays, but at least it provides some peace of mind to know they're safe and happy there."

She nodded, but he could see the tears well up in her eyes.

He frowned and put his sandwich down on the table. "I'm sorry, Jo. I'm sorry that your Christmas didn't turn out how you'd planned. And I'm sorry I don't have much to offer you here. I expect this is a far cry from yours or your mom's homes at Christmastime." He paused, envisioning Christmas trees so tall they scraped the ceiling, ornate wreaths hung on every door, garlands, holly, decorations, cards, piles of gifts, the smell of cookies baking, turkey roasting. Despite his parents' modest means, he'd grown up surrounded by all that and he had to admit, it did still hold a special place in his heart. He continued. "My place is far from festive, I'm afraid." He thought back to her comments when he'd first returned to find her in his living room. "And no, I haven't decorated in years, Jo. Claire used to do all that. But I just never found the motivation to start up again, after . . ." His voice trailed off.

Jo bit her lip, reaching out her hand to place it reassuringly over his own as it rested on the tabletop. She wanted to say something, but Mac beat her to it.

"Maybe I should have tried harder to get you to your apartment."

She squeezed his hand with hers and sighed, shaking her head. "Oh Mac. Please. I would've been miserable home all alone. Everything reminding me of the fact that Ellie and Tyler aren't with me. Besides. Christmas isn't about all that hoopla – deep down it's about being with people you love. That you care for. I may not get to be with my kids, which is regretful and unfortunate. But at least I'm - stranded with you!"

He nodded absently and smiled weakly at her. "Thanks. That was really quite . . . touching."

Her face broke into a tentative grin. "But I have to say, I wouldn't complain about a nice, roaring fire right about now. Maybe a mug of hot chocolate? Just a little Christmas tree somewhere off to the side."

Mac snorted rather dramatically. "Jo. Don't start. You'll end up crying again."

She laughed, looking down at her hand on his. "Yea, I suppose you're right. It would be nice though. " She murmured.

Mac stood up suddenly, pulling his hand away, and turned to survey the kitchen. He reached out and pulled open a drawer, rifling around inside until he pulled out two blood red, tapered candles. He rummaged around in another drawer and pulled out a box of matches. He then reached over to the windowsill and plucked a small twig covered in red berries from a glass of water, before turning back to Jo and smiling. She watched him intently as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard nearby, dropped the small branch in, set the candles inside and lit them, placing the impromptu decoration in the middle of the small table, between them. He winked at her. "Not exactly a roaring fire, or the majestic Christmas pine I'm sure you're used to, but it's something." She smiled widely, clearly pleased at his efforts.

He then reached out, grabbing a bottle of red wine from the counter near the fridge and wiping the thin film of chocolate powder that covered it off onto his shirt. "Red wine does go best with chocolate." He quipped and Jo giggled in response. After opening the bottle, he poured them each a glass and sat down, holding out his glass to hers as if in preparation to make a toast. She followed suit and looked at him expectantly.

He smiled at her, looking directly in her eyes. "Here's to making the most of an unfortunate circumstance and being thankful that we at least have each other at this special time of year."

Jo smiled adoringly at him, clinking her glass against his before taking a deep sip of her wine.

She sighed. "I think at the moment, this probably fits the bill better than hot chocolate." And she closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, savoring the moment.

Mac laughed and took another drink himself, before setting the wine glass down on the table. She was still relaxing back into her chair, eyes shut, a subtle smile plastered on her face. Mac took the opportunity to look at her. To really look at her.

He could see a faint trace of chocolate powder smeared on her chin and he bit his tongue to keep from smirking as he thought of the cocoa incident. Her cheeks were tinged a slight pink shade, whether from the wine or the warmth from the candles, he couldn't be sure. Her lips, soft, full and a deep, dark red. Like the candles. Stained from the wine perhaps? Or just her natural color. He found himself oddly tempted to reach out and touch them. Her face was so hauntingly beautiful in the dim glow of the candlelight flickering on the table that he found himself hard-pressed to divert his gaze, even when she reached up her arms to stretch and began to open her eyes.

After a minute, she'd felt his eyes boring into her and when she finally forced her eyelids to open up, she caught his gaze. There was something . . . different . . . about the way he was just brazenly staring at her and she felt suddenly shy. Self-conscious. She held his gaze, nonetheless. Curious as to what might come of this moment. Good Lord, she was certainly old enough to recognize what he was thinking – or feeling, for that matter - and although it was unexpected coming from him, it wasn't in the least bit unwelcome.

She took a long, deep breath, but rather abruptly, Mac looked away and rose from the chair. "I think I may have had my fill of chocolate, peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich." He flashed her a quick smile, but didn't look her in the eye and she felt her spirits deflate slightly, wondering if they'd just missed a chance for – something - never to revisit it again.

She rose slowly as well, grabbing her empty plate and turning to deposit it in the sink. But just as she moved forward, Mac turned back suddenly, intending to grab the bottle of wine from the table but instead managing only to knock into the plate she was carrying. They both started, gasping slightly in surprise. She set the plate down onto the table not taking her eyes from him.

He'd boxed her into the corner, but couldn't bring himself to move away again. Their eyes locked. And suddenly he found himself inexplicably drawn again to those damn red lips. He moved forward slowly. Leaned in closer. She didn't move, didn't breath. Afraid the moment would disappear again.

But it didn't. And his lips finally, just barely, brushed against hers. A first kiss. Tender. Tentative. And oh so tempting.

When Mac pulled away, all she could think was that she needed more.

"Jo. I think. . ." He mumbled, averting his gaze.

She shook her head, more adamantly than she'd intended and her necklace swung to and fro chaotically. She raised her hand to still it. "No. Mac. Don't think. Not now. Not tonight."

He didn't respond and she feared he would turn and flee.

She reached out and gently placed her hand on his upper arm. "Look me in the eye and tell me this is the first time the thought of us together has crossed your mind?" Her voice was so low, he had to lean in to hear her.

He hesitated, letting out a deep exhalation before replying. Her words rang in his mind making him think back to something Christine had asked of him a few months ago. He shook his head, annoyed that she'd popped into his thoughts at a time like this. He looked up at Jo a second later, his eyes locking onto hers. "No, Jo, it's not. I'd be fooling both of us if I said it was."

They stared at each other a moment, neither certain what to say, before Mac spoke again. "I'm sorry."

She groaned. "Mac. Don't apologize. Heavens. Do you have any idea how many times I've imagined . . . this? The two of us? Together?"

Mac looked away. His face decidedly flushed. She reached out and placed her fingers gently on his chin, turning his head so that he had no choice but to face her.

"Does that embarrass you?" Her voice was low, breathy.

He looked down, smiling slightly. "I'm not sure yet."

He looked back up at her. "This isn't why I asked you here. And it's not some misguided effort on my part to cheer you up."

Jo managed a choking laugh. She reached out her hand and stroked his cheek slowly with her thumb. The cold silver of one of her rings sending a shiver through his nerves, straight down to his spine.

"Please, Mac. I know you better than that. You're not the type to behave that way. That's what makes this all the more special."

"You're ok with this then?" He asked softly.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. "I think I might be more than ok with this."

He nodded. His gaze falling from her eyes, to her mouth and finally coming to rest on her chest. As if remotely controlled, his hand reached out, then froze mere centimeters away. Groping her in such a way seemed almost . . . lurid? She seemed worthy of so much more than a quick feel, pressed back against his kitchen table.

Instead, he withdrew his hand and leaned in slowly to kiss her again. Long. Hard. She tasted of wine. And peanut butter. And of course chocolate. And he couldn't think of a more scintillating combination of flavors right now. His hands moved around her to clutch at her back, her hair. While hers did the same to him.

Despite everything she'd said before, and the feelings he was experiencing now, part of him was still screaming that this was all wrong. That he should stop. Pull away right now. Apologize again for his misbehavior. But she seemed as caught up as he was in the moment. At least she certainly wasn't complaining. And it was true, he really had thought about this so many times before. Since she'd shown up at the Lab. She always knew just how to push his buttons. Make him smile. Or laugh. Or even blush. But despite her flirtatious ways, she never pushed too far. Just far enough. And he found that incredibly exciting.

He was losing himself in her, no question about it, and before he could restrain himself a second time, his hand snaked back around to her side and began tugging at the material of her shirt. Frantically untucking it from the confines of her jeans. His fingers finally brushing against the warmth of her skin, he slipped his hand deftly under the hem of her shirt, beginning to trail his hand upwards.

Through the fog of pleasure engulfing her, threatening to drown out all rational thought, Jo felt his hand moving inside her shirt and she froze. Suddenly, desperately, trying to recall which bra she'd managed to throw on this morning. She offered up a silent prayer that she'd grabbed the new black lace and not the old white cotton one that Ellie chidingly referred to as her 'granny bra'.

Mac felt her body tense up. And the fears he'd just managed to quell about their being together reared up in his imagination again. He mistook her sudden stiffness for a sign of discomfort with his sudden intimacy. So he stopped rather abruptly and began pulling his hand away from her body and out of her shirt. "Jo." He murmured, his face cast down in shame. "I'm sorry if I misread . . ."

Before the words were out of his mouth she brought her own hand between them and clamped it down hard over his own, stopping him from moving away. She smiled to herself. She remembered now. She'd picked out the black lace this morning. "Don't stop Mac. Please don't stop." She whispered into his ear.

She closed her eyes, leaning towards him, intending to continue their kiss. But instead, Mac grasped her hand in his and pulled gently on her arm. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him questioningly.

"Let's move somewhere . . . else." He said, his voice slightly shaky.

She nodded. "Bedroom?"

He smiled as he grabbed up the glass of candles and brought it with them for light. "Bedroom."

She grinned deliriously. "Oh good. So you do have a bedroom. I was beginning to think

those Lab rumors that you never sleep were actually true."

He shook his head as he led her down the hall, through the entryway and towards the corridor leading to his bedroom. "It's just that it's on the other end of my apartment. It seemed very far away there for a moment."

Jo paused and, careful not to jar the candles in his hand, managed to pull him in for another kiss halfway down the hallway.

He chuckled at her. "It's gonna take a long time to get to the bedroom if you keep doing that."

She smiled, pulling away slightly from him. We have all night."

He arched an eyebrow. "Yes we do."

"But that doesn't mean we can't get started right away. Shall we?"

Before he could answer, she winked, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the last door in the hallway. Before entering, she cocked her head at him, an inquisitive look on her face. He nodded and she opened the bedroom door, letting him lead the way with the candles.

Once inside the bedroom, Mac set the candles down onto the dresser and turned to face Jo. She'd already shaken off her sweater and was busy undoing buttons on her shirt.

He shook his head slightly, a cocky half smile playing at the side of his mouth. "Here, let me." He placed his hands over hers and undid the remaining buttons of her shirt, gently removing it from her body. She reached around to unclasp her bra but he stopped her. "I can do it you know."

She smiled coyly at him. "Mac Taylor are you flirting with me?

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure we've moved beyond that point."

She nodded a bit. "Perhaps we have at that."

As he finished undressing her, he noticed her shiver and he realized that with no heat, his bedroom was frigid. He reached out, unbuckling her belt and trying to quickly divest her of her remaining clothing without seeming to rush too much.

Jo reached out to undress him, but she couldn't seem to stop fumbling – buttons, belts, zippers – everything seemed completely uncooperative tonight. Finally Mac took over.

"I'm a little nervous." She admitted, her voice higher than normal.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "I can see that. So am I. Just relax." And he pushed her down gently onto the bed, sliding in beside her and pulling the covers over them both.

They held each other close for a long while. Familiarizing themselves with one another. Eventually, their nerves calmed. And shortly after that, all those feelings they'd held at bay, kept buried, unacknowledged, for so long, began to find their way to the surface. Nerve endings that had seemingly lay dormant for far too long suddenly sprang to life. As they proceeded, any hesitancy all but disappeared, subsumed by their growing desire. And when their desire for each other finally peaked, they both knew, in that moment, that this was right. They lay together, silently for a few minutes, chests heaving, brows glistening with perspiration, each wrapped in the others warm embrace.

A few minutes later, Mac was sound asleep, his arms and legs entwined with Jo's. She smiled to herself, thinking back over the unexpected turn their evening together had taken. She suddenly thought of the huge mess that awaited them in the kitchen. For a split second, she considered getting up and cleaning it. Just to surprise him. But only for a second. Then reason hit. What on earth was she thinking? Instead, she borrowed further under the covers and nuzzled into the crook of Mac's arm. Maybe Santa Clause would be generous this year and clean it up for them. Or at least turn the power back on so they could vacuum in the morning.

She'd nearly dozed off herself, when Mac's body suddenly went rigid next to her and she felt several tremors roll through him. His breathing became erratic, labored. A muffled moan escaped between his lips.

_Nightmare,_ she thought. Still deep asleep, he jerked away from her, turning onto his other side, but the tremors continued, becoming even more violent. No wonder he was always tired, she thought sadly. Even in sleep he seemed unable to rest. She reached her arm towards him, rhythmically caressing his back. Murmuring softy just behind his ear. "Sssshhhh. Sssshhhh." Just as she'd always done to soothe her children back to sleep when one of them had woken from a nightmare.

It seemed to quell whatever ghosts had risen to terrorize him in his sleep and he quieted, his breath slowing, his muscles stilling. She kept up her soothing chant until she lulled even herself asleep, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.

**A/N: Chapter 3: "Green" - Will be up tomorrow, Christmas Eve . I know a bunch of you are reading several time zones ahead of mine; I'll do my best to get the last chapter up before Christmas Day!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Green

**End of Previous Chapter:**

_Nightmare,_ Jo thought. Still deep asleep, Mac jerked away from her, turning onto his other side, but the tremors continued, becoming even more violent. No wonder he was always tired, she thought sadly. Even in sleep he seemed unable to rest. She reached her arm towards him, rhythmically caressing his back. Murmuring softy just behind his ear. "Sssshhhh. Sssshhhh." Just as she'd always done to soothe her children back to sleep when one of them had woken from a nightmare.

It seemed to quell whatever ghosts had risen to terrorize him in his sleep and he quieted, his breath slowing, his muscles stilling. She kept up her soothing chant until she lulled even herself asleep, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.

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Chapter 3: "Green" – _a color of eternal life, symbolizing new beginnings and reflected in such Christmas symbols as holly, mistletoe and the Christmas fir tree._

As the light streamed in through Mac's bedroom window, he stirred slightly, feeling the heat of the sun radiating across his cheek. He stretched languidly, his eyes still closed, trying to prolong that surreal moment that formed the bridge between sleep and wakefulness. As he turned onto his back, he detected another, different kind of warmth emanating from somewhere within the bed. Right next to him. He jerked fully awake and his eyes flashed open, darting from one corner of the bed to the other, only to come to rest on Jo's elegant form lying next to him, the sheet drifting further down her naked body as he moved upwards to get a better view.

A corner of his mouth quivered as he looked at her. Even in sleep, there was an element of disorganization about her. Her hair was the picture of disarray, random whisps splaying out in every direction, covering half of her face. There was a sense of complete and utter abandon evident in the way each of her limbs was crooked at a different angle. And the placid expression etched in her beautifully porcelain features slightly disrupted by the fact that her mouth was hanging wide open, a subtle snore emerging with each inhalation.

He stared at her a moment, smiling sheepishly. He'd slept so well last night, and felt so refreshed upon awakening, that he'd nearly forgotten the turn of events yesterday. He leaned back into the pillow and thought a moment. Glancing at the clock to see only darkness, he recalled the power outage and realized it had not yet been resolved. He judged it to be near 7:30 in the morning. Fearing he may have slept right through a call during the night, he tried to picture where he'd put his phone the night before, realizing it was probably still in his pants pocket.

He rose from the bed as quietly as possible, with the least amount of disruption to the bedcovers that he could manage. Glancing back over his shoulder as he tiptoed away, he was happy to see she hadn't moved in inch, her chest still rising and falling rhythmically.

He located his clothing in a heap on the floor, gathering up each item and extracting his phone from his jeans. Nearly 8:00. No missed calls. No texts. He was amazed, but certainly not disappointed. Glancing back towards Jo one more time, an idea began to take shape in his mind. Assuming she wouldn't wake up for a while yet, he headed over to the dresser and scrawled a quick note for her, just in case. Reaching down, he picked up her own clothing, folding each item and laying it on the small chair near the bed. Finally, he placed his note on top and exited the bedroom, heading for the hall bathroom to dress before he left to carry out his plan, hoping he'd make it back before she awoke.

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A half an hour later, Mac re-entered the apartment with a bang of the door and a clink of his keys as they fell from his hand onto the hardwood floor. He froze, wondering if perhaps Jo would come tearing around the corner any minute, fearing the apartment was being broken into. But he heard nothing. Just managing to close the door with his boot and struggle through up to the mezzanine before dropping everything in a pile before him, he paused a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. Breathing heavily, he began to prepare everything as quickly and noiselessly as possible, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure she wasn't spying on him.

A few minutes later, he stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. Not too bad, he decided. He descended back down to the entryway, slid off his boots and headed back to the bedroom. He'd made such a racket since entering the apartment, he was certain Jo couldn't possibly still be sleeping. But as he peeked into the bedroom, he saw she was, in fact, still out cold.

He shook his head, wondering what he should possibly do with himself now. A twinkle lit up his eye as yet another idea popped into his head and he began to undress slowly, quietly so that he could climb back into bed next to her.

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Fifteen minutes later, Jo's conscious mind began to slowly emerge from the depths of sleep. She first became aware of the different texture of the sheets around her, the firmer feel of the pillow under her head. A different smell surrounding her. She knew she wasn't in her own bedroom, but she wasn't awake enough to determine where she actually was, or to even really care, for that matter. It was warm under the blankets. And cozy. And there were pleasant memories lurking just on the other side of that barrier to consciousness that, although not accessible to her quite yet, managed to provide her with enough fuzzy peace of mind that she felt she could easily fall back into slumber without a worry in the world. She smiled softly to herself and stretched out first her legs, then her arms, finally her back. When her bottom bumped back into something firm and freezing cold.

Her eyes flashed open and she looked around herself slowly. The first thing that caught her eye was a chair near the bed. With her clothes folded neatly on top. She knew she hadn't done that, so she certainly wasn't here alone. She moved slightly away from whatever she'd bumped against behind her and a sharp pain assaulted her right thigh. The bruise. From the bookcase. On her way to the bathroom last night. And all the memories came rushing back. She was at Mac's. Snowed in. Without her kids. On Christmas. She'd managed to coat his entire kitchen in cocoa powder. And they'd slept together. _Shit_.

She let out a long, shaky breath then froze. If Mac was awake behind her, which she assumed he would be at this hour, he would have figured out she was awake now from the sudden change in her breathing. From her subtle movement away from his body just seconds ago. She inhaled deeply, preparing for whatever may come, and rolled over slowly to find him smiling at her.

She searched his face quickly for any sign of discomfort. Of regret. Of annoyance. But saw none of them. She smiled back hesitantly. "'Morning." She mumbled softly, her gaze unable to keep his for more than a moment before she had to cast her eyes away and watch her own fingers as they toyed with a loose thread from the blanket. She knew she was stark naked underneath and she slid down ever so slightly, adjusting it around herself, suddenly uncomfortable with this whole situation.

He saw the unease in her eyes, in the tightness of her mouth, in the stiff way she held her upper body, the sheet clasped to her chest. His smile fell and he bit his lip.

"Jo, are you ok?"

She didn't respond immediately.

"Was it . . . uncomfortable waking up here? With me?"

She cocked her head, deep in thought. "Uncomfortable? Mmm, maybe a little awkward, yes. Waking up . . . next to . . . my boss."

He reached out and gently clasped her hand, stilling her nervous unraveling of his blanket. "You must know, Jo, that I care for you very much, or you wouldn't be in my bed right now. I'd hoped that feeling was mutual, but if not . . . well, I guess it'll be my turn to be lying here next to you, naked and uncomfortable."

She laughed, thankful for a bit of light humor to ease the tension she was feeling right now.

"Mac, I like you too. It's just. This is . . . ." She let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a sea lion barking. "Wow! This is all so new! Not what I imagined when you invited me over."

He patted her hand softly before withdrawing his own. "I already told you last night this isn't why I asked you to come over."

"Well, good heavens, it's certainly not why I came."

He sighed. "Did we make a mistake?"

She looked at him briefly, then turned away, thinking a moment about his question. She frowned. She was being silly. This was Mac. Boss or not. She couldn't think of a more steadfast, honorable . . . desirable man. If she really acknowledged her feelings, she was beyond thrilled that they were together. Like this. Finally. She shook her head, slowly at first, then much more forcefully as she looked up and held his gaze. "No Mac. We didn't make a mistake at all."

He let out a silent breath of relief. She shifted, reaching out her other hand to clasp his arm. Upon touching him, she started and withdrew her hand jerkily. "Oh, Lord, Mac. You are freezing. Did you already get up?"

"Uh, I got up to use the bathroom." He wasn't quite ready to divulge his efforts at surprising her yet."

"Sheesh. Where, the North Pole?"

Mac laughed heartily. "No, just the hallway. Power's not back on yet so there's still no heat. It's pretty chilly."

"Well I'll say."

He looked at her a moment. "Wanna warm me up?"

She quirked her eyebrows. "Ah, so that's all I'm good for now?"

He chuckled. "No I expect you're good for a fair bit more than that." The he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "But for the moment, that's all I really need."

And with that, they felt their initial discomfort quickly begin to fade. She reached out and stroked his cheek, toying with the light stubble there. He leaned over, tucking her hair behind her ears and pressing his lips against hers. As the weight of his body pressed into her, they both fell back on to the sheet, their arms encircling each other as their tongues began exploring well beyond each others mouths.

A few minutes later, Jo's phone buzzed. Mac barely managed to disentangle his arms from her as she drew away, leaning over to grab her phone from the pocket of her jeans.

She glanced at the screen and looked at Mac. "My Mama." She stated matter of factly, as she moved to sit up on the edge of the bed, pulling the covers around her shoulders to keep warm.

"Danville." She answered mechanically. But even to Mac, her voice sounded rather breathless, throaty.

"Hey Mama. Merry Christmas to you too!"

"Of course I want to talk with them. Pass the phone, please?"

"Hey hon."

"No, I couldn't get home with the blizzard and the power outage. I got stuck at Mac's."

Mac could hear Ellie's catcall even from the far side of the bed where he was sitting quietly. "Oooooohhhhh."

Jo rolled her eyes as she glanced at Mac and shook her head at her daughter's teasing.

"Yes, Ellie I spent the night with my boss." She rolled her eyes again, then winked at Mac who smiled back at her, amused at her easy kidding with her kids.

"I love you too. Pass me Tyler, ok?"

"Hi. How's my favorite boy?"

"Grandma feeding you enough?"

Mac watched her laughing as Tyler responded, apparently at length. "Ok. Take care. Love you. Pass me Grandma before you hang up, ok?"

After a pause, she continued. "Hey, Mama. Sorry I couldn't make it down. I miss you guys so much."

"They're not being too much trouble for you I hope?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm safe."

"Yea, at Mac's."

"No, of course not Mama, no worries. You didn't interrupt anything."

Jo frowned as she listened. Mac could hear the robust tone coming across the line from Jo's mother but he couldn't catch the actual words themselves.

Finally there was silence on the other end and Jo sighed loudly. "Ok Mama. All right! Yes! I am, as we speak, sitting naked on the edge of my boss's bed."

Macs eyebrows hit ceiling.

Jo sighed. "I'm all grown up Mama. And yes, I know what I'm doing."

"Luv you too Mama. Call me later after you open presents."

"You won't interrupt anything."

Jo groaned. "Fine. I'll call you instead. 'Bye." And she hung up, leaning over to toss the phone onto the chair with her clothes.

She turned around to Mac, who was looking at her aghast.

"You joke like that with your mother?" He ventured.

She eyed him oddly and a quirky smile spread across her face. "I may have been playing along with Ellie's teasing. But you don't joke with my mother. She sees right through anything. She knew what I'd been doing. From the minute I answered the phone."

Mac unconsciously pulled the drifting sheet back up over his torso, feeling suddenly very exposed.

Jo laughed, seeing his sudden discomfort. "Where do you think I got my trademark gift of perceptiveness from – those profiling skills that come in so handy at work. Certainly not the Bureau. Those classes just authenticated what I already had in my blood. Thanks to my Mama." She paused for effect, then continued innocently. "You should meet her sometime."

Mac shuddered. "I'm not sure I want to now."

Jo smirked and stood up, grabbing her clothes off the chair. Mac looked questioningly at her. "You leaving?"

She laughed. "No. I was going to go the bathroom, get dressed and see if there's anything in the kitchen to eat that's not covered in a fine dusting of cocoa powder. I'm starving." And she sauntered into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a resounding bang.

He rose and got dressed himself, again, waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. When she exited, she looked at him expectantly.

He smiled. "So what shall we do today?"

Jo quirked her brow. "I already told you. I'm starving. I'm gettin' somethin' to eat." She sighed. "If only the power were back on, we could have ourselves a proper Southern breakfast." She glanced back at him. "One day, I'll make you one. You'll love it." And with that, she spun around and began walking down the hall. "I'm sure I will." He murmured to himself and he hurried to join her, before she reached the end of the hall.

As she rounded the corner, Mac a mere step behind her, she stopped suddenly and he nearly crashed into her. "Oh." She gasped.

He stepped around her and looked intently at her face.

Her eyes were wide like a child's, her mouth agape, her hands brought up to clasp each cheek in a gesture of complete surprise. She turned to Mac, but couldn't speak for the moment.

He feigned ignorance, shrugging his shoulders. "Must've been Santa Clause."

She grinned and walked up the stairs to the mezzanine, stopping just in front of the tiny, two foot Christmas tree placed on top of the end table, right next to the ball maze. She reached out and fingered the intricate decorations, the fragile star on top, the plastic holly leaves, the shiny tinsel, the tear shaped lights, even though they weren't lit up. She leaned closer and her smile was replaced by a look of confusion. She glanced back at Mac, who had come up to stand next to her.

"'Baby's First Christmas'?" She intoned, indicating one of the ornaments. "Mac Taylor, you did not steal this from somewhere, did you?"

His eyes widened at the mere thought that he, Mac Taylor, Head of the New York Crime Lab, would have stolen anything, let alone a Christmas tree. On Christmas day, no less. "I most certainly did not." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, annoyed she'd even consider such a thought.

He hesitated a fraction of a second, hoping his surprise hadn't just backfired. "I . . . rented it from the corner store down the street. I have to return it later tonight."

Jo looked at him. Her expression entirely unreadable to him and he felt himself inch back away from her ever so slightly, just in case she reacted less than positively.

But a second later, her face broke out into a huge smile and the room was filled with her chiming laughter. "You rented someone else's Christmas tree for me? I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry, Mac!"

Mac breathed a sigh of relief and grinned widely. "I know, it's silly. But you seemed so disappointed last night and I didn't have anything to decorate with myself. This was the next best thing. And the only place open."

She took another, closer look at the tree and noticed a small, wrapped cube underneath, with a little tag with her name written on it. She glanced over at him and he nodded encouragingly. Just as she reached out to grab it, the tiny strand of lights on the tree lit up, startling her. She jumped, then laughed, embarrassed at her childish reaction.

She looked sheepishly over at Mac. Glancing around, they could see all the clocks in the room flashing, the light flicker on in the entryway. She heard the hum of the refrigerator in the distance and the groan of the heating system as it came back to life. They smiled at each other.

"Power's back on." Mac quipped.

"Oh thank the Lord - we can make some coffee. You do have coffee, right?" she looked sideways at Mac.

Mac laughed. "Yes, I do. Most likely cocoa flavored, but nonetheless."

She reached out and slapped him playfully. He nodded back at the tree. "But open your present first."

She plucked it up and undid the wrapping paper. A block of multi-colored Post-it notes.

Jo laughed. Mac shrugged. "I'll admit, the choices were rather limited at the corner store. I know how you go through them - wouldn't want you to run out."

"Thanks Mac." But her face turned serious. "Mac, I don't have anything for you."

"Jo, you've already given me everything I could have possibly wished for." He paused, turning slightly red as he realized how that sounded.

Jo eyed him. "Oh I have, have I?"

"I didn't just mean . . . well . . . you know . . ." He stuttered uncomfortably.

Jo smiled, cutting him off with a wave of her arm. "I know what you mean. Thank you Mac."

She weaved her arms around him and they hugged. "Merry Christmas, Jo." "Merry Christmas, Mac."

They separated and Jo spoke. "Let's get that coffee brewing. I'm still freezing." And as if to emphasize the point, she jammed her hands into her sweater pockets, seeking out some warmth.

Her hand closed around the mistletoe she'd stuffed in there last night. She pulled it out and shook it in front of Mac.

"Oh. Look. I forgot I brought this. I will admit, I did steal it from the break room in the Lab right before we left. Just to tease you." She smirked at him.

Mac's brow arched.

She laughed. "I guess I didn't actually need it, huh?"

Mac shrugged, an air of nonchalance about him. But suddenly, in one quick movement, he reached out and grabbed the sprig from her hand, holding it well above the level of Jo's head, out of her reach.

She giggled as he approached her slowly. "You never know, it might still come in handy." He whispered as he leaned in to place a more than friendly kiss on her lips.

He felt her shiver, whether from the cold or the excitement, he couldn't really tell. When he pulled away a minute later, her voice was shaky. "I guess maybe I didn't give you all you needed earlier, huh?" She whispered breathlessly, trying to regain her composure. She took a deep breath. "What about that coffee?"

He looked meaningfully at her, still clutching the mistletoe. "I know a better way to warm up." And he reached out as if to pick her up and whisk her off her feet.

Much to his surprise, she backed away slightly, shaking her head and smiling playfully at him. "I can walk myself Mac. Besides, there's no hurry right? We've got all the time in the world together." She looked down at the mistletoe still gripped between his fingers. "And we definitely won't need this. I guarantee it."

And she leaned in to give him a long, luxurious kiss, prying the sprig from his hand and sticking it onto the tree along with the other decorations.

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this bit of Christmas fluff. I know it's already Christmas out there for some of you, but I really did do my best to get this posted on the early side. **

**Thank You and Happy Holidays to everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed, alerted, or just simply read. I view each as a wonderful, thoughtful gift!**

**Now, off to bake cookies . . .**


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